Joy And Pain

Her small hands in white gloves seemed as fragile as porcelain when I first saw her on an autumn street. All my thoughts of her are like a fairytale in a child's heart. If I could live forever, I wouldn't fall in love again with anybody else. All my dreams would see her smiling like the very first summer sunrise. I always thought that we would marry in the small church near the park where our children would play. Time has been both my friend and enemy bringing my first vision of her and then letting it linger unchanged down through tender melancholy days. I would never curse my life like one might revoke the citizenship of their birth; no matter how lonely I become, I'll still see her walking through the leaves touching my heart as gently as she moves her ballerina feet along her path, and I really consider every moment worthy of the joy and pain.